Reddened
by Cabbage Squeezer
Summary: When Finn woke up to Marceline crying, floating a few feet away, at the sight of her red and reddened eyes, he threw his arms around her, pulled her into his lap, and let her cry into his chest, kissed the crown of her head.
1. Reddened

When Finn woke up to Marceline crying, floating a few feet away, at the sight of her red and reddened eyes, he threw his arms around her, pulled her into his lap, and let her cry into his chest, kissed the crown of her head. He let her sobs wrack through them both. When she was done, she pulled herself apart and wrapped her legs and arms around him, buried her face in his neck. He held her tighter.

It was even longer before she spoke. "I had a dream – a nightmare." She sucked in a breath. "Everyone was dead. PB, Rainicorn, Jake, Simon. Even you." She sobbed again.

"Marce, it's okay. They're all alive. _I'm_ still alive. Ok?" She looked up fearfully, and he kissed her nose. She crinkled it in frustration. No matter how sad she was, he made her happy again.

"I know. But, vampires don't have dreams. We're dead. Ish." His look kept her talking. "But... demons do. They dream of the future."

"Prophecies? Really? So? Babe, I love you, but we've agreed. I won't be here forever, no matter how many debts Death and Cosmie owe me. I can rope out some extra years more, if you want them." She shook her head.

"It's not that. It's that... I was the one to do it, in the 'dream'." He smiled at her. She frowned.

"Babe, I don't care. Right now you're my Marce, my beautiful vampiric dame. I got nothing to worry about. S'kay. If I had to die, I'd want to die by someone I know anyway." She pushed away, suddenly angry.

"You don't get it, do you? You're so globbing stupid sometimes. Ugh." She tried to float up and away, but his strong arms kept her in his lap. "Fine," she sighed.

"Marce, I love you. Ok? It will be fine. Just like Jake's croak dream, it didn't come to pass. And I'll make sure it doesn't. Alright?" She shook her head. He cupped her cheek and kissed her, smiling against her frown. Eventually she relented.

"Alright. I trust you."

"I know."

And it was suddenly easy for them to get to sleep that night, cradled in each others arms.

**Notes:**

**That was different. Not necessarily what I'm used to writing, in a way. This I may continue, even. It begs continuance.**


	2. Soul, Psyche, Whatever

Hunson Abadeer had been called many names. Names as lowly as Azazel and as lofty as Beelzebub. Many others, even. His daughter had been called far less, despite her title, loftier even than his, should she claim it. Instead, she shunned it, and it seemed for naught.

Hunson was big on thinking and analyzing. She was a big, strong half-demon-cum-vampire, his infernally powerful daughter. He saw far more of his influence than her mother's. Yet, evidence of it stood before him, blue and white and _blond._ A human, of which he'd long doubted there were left. He smiled at the avatar of his adversary, his lips open but teeth blunted, hiding a forked tongue. He consoled them in his way, sounding flippant but meaning truly.

"She's just struggling with her alignment. You're good for her. She's doubly bound to be evilly aligned. It's natural. She'll know what to be eventually. Her decision. Doesn't make a lick of difference in the end. This place _is _chaos, its ruler's alignment has no sway."

His daughter would have none of that. "Dad, for the last time, I'm never going to rule. I don't want to. I won't. I'm staying with Finn, in Ooo, forever." His bisected tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, disapproval in a single sound.

"Never said he couldn't come. And you'd have him all you want, forever as you want. Here." His daughter huffed at him and dragged her blond boyfriend through a portal. He would never understand girls, especially eternally teenaged ones. For now, Hunson Abadeer was alone, waiting for her next portal. This was his domain, but his hell was that her visits came in quick succession, no such concept as time to separate them. He had to eternally watch her pain and yet he could do nothing of it, even outside of his hell, for time held no sway of him and he no power in it.

He had to watch even the eternal wear and wither away.

**Notes: This has an air of unfinishedness to it. I'm not sure if I intended that. Just a small bit that fell out of my brain onto the paper. This story will probably continue like this, shifting, changing. Perhaps it will have an end plot and more, eventually. We'll see. Prolly gonna keep the same rough week-ish pace.**


	3. Old, Molded Magazines

While she floated in with the doctor, he had to stay behind. Being as this was a witch doctor, a half-witty magic-slinging backwoodsy hag who knew some things, the waiting room was the entrance to her hut, complete with wooden stools and a little table. Old, molded magazines sat on it, but he didn't care. He sat down and took off his hat, fingers weaved through recently shorn blond hair. Still silky, luxurious, but nowhere the length. At her behest, of course, it had been cut. He would do anything for her, of course. He picked up a magazine finally, leafed through it. He was thankful she had spent time teaching him to read, better than he could to begin with at the least.

It was perhaps a half-hour before she returned. She snuck over to him before pouncing, landing in his lap and slipping off his hat, running her fingers through his hair. He smiled up at her and she gave a kiss.

"So, I'm pregnant." He fainted in a decidedly heroic fashion. She smirked playfully. That was definitely a part of him she enjoyed.

**Notes: So, this is short. I apologize. I would have made it longer, but I kinda petered off. I'm getting there. I oughtta have some more to the story within a few days and this chapter might make more sense. I hope.**


End file.
